


Mid-Story Snapshots

by DestinyFreeReally



Category: Jane Eyre - Charlotte Brontë
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 10:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyFreeReally/pseuds/DestinyFreeReally
Summary: Mr. Rochester's an abrupt man with a forceful will, but Jane's not a girl to be trampled. Early in their meeting he expresses a wish for her to be a sort of companion at Thornfield; here's a look further at some of their would-be interactions. (This will probably be added to)





	Mid-Story Snapshots

    “I suppose you have friends, then? No relations to own you but surely, friends; schoolmates, former pupils, from your time at Lowood.” Mr. Rochester stirred the silence that brewed in the sitting room, eager to ask questions of the little governess- if only he could think of them.    
  
   “No, sir.” Jane’s chin wanted to drop, thinking of poor, Helen Burns, but it stayed upright, steady. “There’s no one in the world outside of Thornfield I could think to attribute the title of friend.” Watching him from the corner of her eye, Jane couldn’t tell if this answer satisfied him. “I had a friend, once, though; she died of an illness, when we were both young schoolgirls.”   
  
    Fresh detail seemed to placate him into a further calm, and Jane turned her head back to her current pupil- little Adele, playing merrily some distance away.    
  
    “What about the letters?”    
  
    Turning her head back to Mr. Rochester, Jane blinked, “Sir?”   
  
    “The day you spooked my horse, little witch, you were on a dark fairy errand to post letters? Not to friends, and not to family, to strangers then?” He smiled to himself, believing to have uncovered some connection to her outside world.    
  
    “The letters; yes, they were to strangers,” Jane held back a small smile of reproach to tease him at his prying, “Strangers to  _ me _ , of course. The letters were Mrs. Fairfax’s, I only volunteered to carry them.”    
  
   He  _ hmmph-ed _ before turning in to bed, leaving his new governess to take her charge to bed as well, with a gruff goodnight and little satisfaction.    
  


* * *

  
  
  
    “Miss Eyre, I’ve hardly seen or heard from you in days since my return from London; I trust you’ve been well?” His thoughts often circled back to his little governess while he traveled, and often he hoped she was well. “We’ve been separated, are you not glad to see me back to Thornfield?” He twisted in his armchair, hearing her come into the drawing room, and smiled to see her.    
  
    “Of course, Mr. Rochester, the house is happy to have you back, and safe from your travels.” Jane took the seat opposite him, and inched her chair back. “Mrs. Fairfax conjectured you may not return for months, and is so pleased to have you back within only weeks.”   
  
    Hands folded across his lap, Edward looked hard at Jane’s little smile. “Mrs. Fairfax has as much power to accurately predict when I come and go, as she has to predict the weather; tell me, did she say it would rain today, too?” Truthfully, he hadn’t spent so much time at Thornfield in a long, long while. “Perhaps you shall see so much of me, you shall grow sick of the sight.”    
  
    She’d commented how the _ house _ was happy to have him, how  _ Mrs. Fairfax _ was glad to see him- Edward noticed fair little of Jane’s speech shared her own thoughts on the matter.    
  
    “I shouldn’t think so, sir.” Was all she added, and met his eyes for but a second. “Adele likes it, too, when you come home,” She continued.    
  
    The softness of her voice on the word  _ home _ , nearly touched an old bachelor’s heart; for some reason he liked that she called his home hers.   
  
    “Adele likes the presents I bring when I return, which means she also has to like it when I leave to fetch her something.” Edward watched her concede a small nod, and couldn’t restrain himself from following up, “But what of your thoughts, Miss Eyre? Surely you’d prefer a master who didn’t linger so much at home, as to be breathing down your neck all the time.” Whether imaginary, or a trick of the firelight, Mr. Rochester couldn’t tell, but he thought he spied a blush on his governess’ cheeks.    
  
    “I suppose you haven’t had such benevolent masters as yourself then, sir, because I…” Jane corrected the thought she dared not speak to him, “I am glad you are come to Thornfield again, of course. If you’ll excuse me, I think I hear Mrs. Fairfax’s tea bell.”    
  
   Rochester heard no such chimes, but he didn’t stop her from going like he wanted to.    
  


* * *

  
  
  
    “What do you think of my guests, Jane? Are they not accomplished, beautiful people, all worthy of staying in such a fine house as my own?” He leaned forward, trying to judge her countenance in the spare moments they’d have alone together, before his accomplished, beautiful guests would make noise and scare Jane from him. Her nostrils flared, to his satisfaction, but no other sign of passion could he detect in her face.    
  
    “Quite beautiful, sir, and all accomplished, of course. You associate yourself with people of your standing.” For her part, Jane tried not to make that an accusation- a fault against him, where certainly none existed. Keeping her eyes down, Jane wished for some instrument to busy herself with, but Adele was still asleep, and the house was still quiet. Early in the morning she’d taken to roaming the house, when all Mr. Rochester’s party guests could be avoided, she’d walk the halls; her soft feet carrying her through her beloved home. “I hope I didn’t wake you, sir.” She added, finding it odd that he be walking the halls like she.    
  
    “Air-footed Jane? Wake anyone in this house? I should think not, no. Trouble sleeping, is all that keeps me awake. And should I not associate with people of my standing, Jane? Can these fine people not be good ones, as well?” His hushed tones meant to draw out her opinion further, he found little Jane Eyre to be naturally withholding with him.    
  
    “I’m sure they can be, sir.” The discussions of governesses still stung Jane’s ears, but she willed her temper down. The green beast of jealousy that roared at Blanche Ingram shouldn’t surely color the whole of the group, Jane tried to remind herself. “That is, they are, sir. Fine  _ and _ good, to be sure of it.”    
  
    Mr. Rochester didn’t look convinced, and he was about to press her further, when people began to bustle about the house. The day’s peace was over, and another day of excitement fell before them.    
  
    “I’ll let you get to your business then, Miss Eyre.”   
  
    “Good morning, Mr. Rochester,” Jane gave a demure smile, with a wicked flash of her green eyes.    
  
  



End file.
